


Did It?

by Dark_and_night



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Other, TW: Manipulation, Therapy, kind of yandere, tw: guilt, tw: shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: You are in a therapy session with Hannibal Lecter.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Reader, Hannibal Lecter/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 208





	1. Chapter 1

You sat on the couch, your hands in your lap, your therapist Dr. Lecter sitting across from you. His face was neutral, but pleasant as he listened to you talk. He was good at painting the perfect expressions on his face for his clients. 

Something about him unnerved you, but he was the first therapist you’d ever had. Maybe you were just getting used to the idea of being totally vulnerable and open in front of someone. It was scary and almost violating to tell all of your secrets to someone who was basically a perfect stranger.

At the same time, there was something else Dr. Lecter that unnerved you. It was just below the surface, and you couldn’t place what it was, but it was there. It lingered in his eyes as he looked at you. It was in the tips of his fingers whenever you passed him something and your hands brushed. It was in his voice when he asked you a question. Whatever it was, it was always there, hovering in the room around the two of you.

You looked down at your fingernails, brushing the tip of the nail over a bit of dead skin on your nail, trying to think about what to say next. Some sessions you could rant and cry and think of a billion different things to say, and sometimes you were a dry well.

This session was dry and quiet, but not because you couldn’t think of anything to say. It was because you wanted to talk about something in particular, but you were afraid to bring it up. You wanted him to think highly of you, and you didn’t want to tell him anything that might change his opinion of you. Which you knew was kind of silly to want that, seeing as his job was to listen to you ramble about anything and everything. 

Dr. Lecter tapped his pen on his palm, watching you with even eyes. “Is there anything that you want to tell me?”

“Isn’t that the point of coming here?” You forced a smile.

He chuckled, settling back in his chair. “Yes, and yet you’ve barely spoken two words since you got here.”

“I guess I’m just nervous about what it is I want to talk about.” You admitted, looking down at your hands. 

He gave you a thin smile. “And why is that?”

You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact with him. “It’s just kind of personal.”

“Again, that is why you come here.” Dr. Lecter chuckled. 

You finally made eye contact with him again, for a moment believing the lie that it was you that was reading too much into things. The lie disintegrated when you two made eye contact. The lingering, hovering feeling that surrounded the two of you felt as if it was closing in. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were angry.

You shrank back into the couch, feeling as if there were icy fingers were gripping your heart. 

“Is it too personal because it involves your sex life?” He murmured so softly you could only barely hear it. The icy feeling in your heart only grew more frigid as he slowly rose from his chair, towering over your cowering form.

“Dr. Lecter?” You whispered, trying and failing to sink deeper into the couch.

He sauntered over, pressing his hands down on the couch behind your head, boxing you in. “Are you embarrassed because you had a messy hookup with some nobody when you were feeling lonely last week?”

It felt like your heart stopped. You had had a hard day a week ago, and you had gone out to a bar. You had tried to take your mind off of things there, and for a while it had worked. You had met a guy there. He was nothing special, but you had liked him well enough. Well enough to go home with him.

The desperate clawing of fingers peeling off clothes, mouths on mouths, mouth on skin, skin on skin had given you a temporary high. A momentary glance at intimacy and acceptance that was gone with the daybreak. 

“Did that make you happy?” Dr. Lecter leaned into you, so close you could smell his cologne. “Did it give you all that you wanted? Was it what you needed to feel better?”

It hadn’t. But the better question was how did he know about that?

“Or did it only make you hate yourself more as you walked out of that dingy apartment complex in the morning? Did you feel sick to your stomach at the café you stopped at after so you wouldn’t have to go home and be alone?” He leaned in closer, until his lips were just brushing your ear. His hot breath sent a chill down your spine. “Didn’t you feel worse than ever before, going home in your clothes from the night before, the scent of some nobody stinking on your skin?”

Tears formed in your eyes, your breathing speeding up. You suddenly felt slimy, and disgusting under his gaze, beginning to feel as though you had done something unforgivably wrong by hooking up with someone. “How do you know all this?”

“You’re my favorite client, silly thing.” His voice grew softer as he stroked your cheek with his index finger. “I’m going to take extra good care of you.”

“Extra good care of me?” You whimpered, the tears streaming down your cheeks now. Your body leaned into his touch before you could stop yourself, Dr. Lecter’s voice both comforting and terrifying you.

“You need someone to take care of you.” He knelt down in front of you, an expression of gentle understanding painted on his face. “That’s why you came to me.”

You knew this was wrong, that it was a manipulation. But he seemed to know something you didn’t know. He seemed to know what you needed.

“I’m-I’m scared.” You choked out, clutching your hands together. 

“Don’t be, it was one little mistake that I forgive you for.” Dr. Lecter smiled, putting his hands over yours. 

You were supposed to trust your therapist, right? He was supposed to know what was best for you, right?

“You forgive me?” You whispered, leaning towards him, the tears still flowing.

He simply nodded, running his thumb over your knuckles. “I think it would be for the best if you stayed close to me from now on. It would be best for you.”

You found yourself nodding before you could think to stop yourself.

“Good.” He purred, rising from the floor. “We’ll put your place up for sale next week. Start moving your things out tomorrow.”

“Is this okay?” You asked, wiping your eyes with shaky hands.

Dr. Lecter sat back in his chair, a pleasant and honest looking smile on his face. “Of course it is. Your well-being is always my top priority. I can keep a better eye on you once you live with me.”


	2. Moving Day

You hovered in the doorway of Hannibal’s home, shifting from foot to foot as the movers finished setting your things down in what was supposed to be your new room. Hannibal had told them not to bother with your old furniture, so that was left in your old apartment for whoever rented it out next. 

This all still felt wrong, but once you tired to tell Hannibal how you felt, he somehow turned it around on you. Moving in with him made sense when he told you why you had to, but the moment you were alone it didn’t make sense anymore.

Hannibal was smiling at the movers, handing them a tip before gesturing to the front door. As they started walking to you you stepped to the side, back out onto the porch. You hadn’t stepped foot into the home yet, and yet you were supposed to live here now. 

Clutching your purse in your hands, you nodded to the movers as they filed out of the house, heading back to their truck. A couple of them nodded back before getting in their truck. Hannibal was the last one out, turning to you and giving you an easy smile. 

“It’s all set up.” Hannibal wrapped an arm around your waist as the truck pulled away. “I think you’ll find it to your liking.”

“Um, Doctor Lecter-.” You started.

He held up his hand, shushing you. “Hannibal. You don’t need to be so formal with me in our own home.”

“That’s the thing, it isn’t our home.” You said slowly, tense since he was touching you. “I had a home, and I liked it.”

Hannibal noticed your tenseness and pulled his hand away, a reassuring smile on his face. “That place wasn’t good for you.” He started walking inside, glancing back at you to see if you were following. “You can’t be alone.”

“But I can be.” You said, walking to the threshold, but not stepping inside. “I can be alone, I never felt like being alone wasn’t good for me.”

He walked farther into the house, but you stayed at the threshold. Something was telling you to not go inside. That if you stepped foot into that house, that would be it. You would fall completely into whatever trap he had set up for you, and if you managed to come out the other side, you wouldn’t be the same.

The smell of old books and spices wafted out of the house. In other circumstances, the smell would have been comforting. Now, however, the smell represented something dark and unknown. 

From what you could see of the house it was ornate, with dark wood floors and impressive architecture. The house was filled with old looking things that would have impressed you under different circumstances. Hannibal stood on an embellished rug in the doorway, looking back at you. Large windows stood behind him, surrounding him in an almost divine glow.

“Come here.” His smooth voice enticed you, made you wanted to do what he wanted you to do. 

You held out your hand, your heart racing, your mind begging you to not take that first step, to just run away. Your fingers were shaking, your feet planted in the ground but your hand reaching out for him. 

Hannibal gently took your hand in his, his warmth grounding you. “There you go.” He purred, pulling you toward him. 

Your arm straightened out first, and then your torso shifted forward, and only after that did your foot finally leave the ground, crossing the threshold into your new home. 

“Good.” He smiled, pulling you to his chest, closing the front door behind you with a damning thud. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin, your heart racing faster than before. Though it was warm, your entire body felt cold.

Hannibal didn’t miss how uncomfortable you obviously were; however, he didn’t acknowledge it. He led you to your new room, ushering you inside. “I know it will be to your liking.”

You stepped inside, the panic inside you momentarily stilling. The furniture was exactly your style, though you had never been able to afford your exact style before. You looked from the room back to Hannibal, at a loss for words.

“How did you know?” You breathed, stepping farther into your new room. It was what you had always wanted.

Hannibal smiled, watching your fear melt away as you absorbed your new life. “I know you.”

You turned back to him, rubbing your hands together nervously. “I-I thought…”

“Did you have it in your head that I would force you to stay in the same room as me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“No?” You asked timidly, still feeling as if there was something sinister about all this that you couldn’t yet place. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to come to me.” Hannibal said, looking around your room. “I’ll take good care of you, and I’ll keep you healthy as safe here with me.”

You slowly breathed out, taking in the room. The closet was open, and you could see that not only was it full of your old clothes, but new ones as well. On the walls and vanity there were decorations that you had wanted in the past, but hadn’t bought for yourself. 

If you stayed here, you could have whatever you wanted. Never worry about money or rent or food, never even needing to have a job. This all might be wrong, but at the same time, would it be okay to just take what you wanted if someone was willing to give it to you? 

Stepping closer to him, you tried to read him past his fake expression he always put on. “Take care of me?”

Hannibal smiled. “I said I would.”

You shook your head, resting your hands on his chest, looking into his frigid eyes. “Take care of me.”

His eyes glinted with recognition, a sliver of unattractive emotion worming its way through his façade as he realized what you were asking from him. He put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush together. 

He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against your ear, breathing in your scent. “Ask me one more time.”

You dug your fingers into his shirt, the heat from his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Please take care of me.”

“Good girl.” He hummed, looking up and down your body wickedly while his expression was hidden. You were already coming together nicely, and it was only your first day of living together.


End file.
